Page 23 of Forged in Twilight: The Complete Series

All except one former fallen angel, it seemed.

“Lucifer. What did you do with her?”

He hadn’t changed one bit. From the goatee to the black hair slicked back into a tail, he enjoyed playing the part of a roguish businessman. Only, instead of dealing in dollars, he dealt in souls.

Bastard.

Unlike Raze, Lucifer currently kept his wings hidden. He wasn’t surprised. Even though, when it came to the celestial beings, showing off your wings was akin to a dick-measuring contest, Raze knew that Lucifer never showed his off if he could help it. After spending so long in Hell, the black feathers that used to match Raze’s had become leathery. Instead of fluffy angel wings, Lucifer’s were ratty. Torn. Like a bat that got caught in a hailstorm, his wings were destroyed.

Just another reason why Lucifer hated Raze and his brothers almost more than he hated any of the other factions.

Though he wore a pleasant smile, Raze could see the loathing in Lucifer’s icy blue eyes as he folded his hands primly behind him. “Why, Raziel. Whatever do you mean?”

“Cut the shit. Rebecca Murphy. Where is she?”

Lucifer tapped his chin with a perfectly manicured nail. Hard to believe this male could be cruel enough to trap his Becca, or vicious enough to curse those who crossed him, but that was what made him so deceptively evil.

“Rebecca, Rebecca, Rebecca… nope. Sorry. Doesn’t ring a bell.”

Lying. He was lying.

And there was nothing Raze could do about it without risking anything bad—worse—happening to her.

“Fine. If you don’t know where she is, then what the hell are you doing here?”

“Hell…” Lucifer let out a soft laugh. His eyes remained cold and hard, though, without even an ounce of humor. “Funny you should mention that. I don’t know. I guess it’s nice to get out of Hell every once in a while. Don’t you agree?”

“Don’t know,” spat out Raze. “Never been there.”

“That’s right. The Fallen linger in Purgatory. Can’t get into Hell. Can’t get into Heaven, either.” His lips split again. “What if I could change that?”

Raze froze. “What do you mean?”

“It’s very simple. For old times’ sake, I’m prepared to offer you a deal.” Lucifer held up both of his hands. They were folded into fists, hiding whatever was inside. Waving his left one, he said, “If you choose this, I’ll give you what you need to go home.” He unfolded his hands, revealing a shimmering image of the golden key Raze and his brothers had lost ages ago. “Heaven.”

“What’s in the other one?”

“If you choose this one, I’ll sneak you into Hell with me. There might be something you want there.” His grin turned devilish as he unfolded his right hand, revealing an image of a perfect red rose.

Becca.

Raze narrowed his gaze on Lucifer. “Alright. Let’s say I bite. What would you want in return?”

“It’s very simple, Raziel. If you choose one, you forfeit the other. Forever.”

For a moment, the temptation to choose the rose was all too real. Only knowing that this was Lucifer, and that the devil could never be trusted had Raze screwing his jaw shut as he thought about Lucifer’s offer.

He wasn’t a fool. He knew what Lucifer was doing. If Raze entered into a deal with the devil, his celestial side would hold him to it. He could choose the key, but he’d lose Becca. He could choose Becca, but his brothers would be sentenced to spend the rest of their lives in Purgatory.

And if he didn’t have both his soulmate and their talisman, there would be no breaking the curse that Lucifer placed on his faction.

Besides, who was to say that Lucifer would honestly fulfill either offer? No one knew for sure where the key was, and he was holding out hope that Becca was safe. Even if it appeared that, by chasing after his demoness, he’d inadvertently walked into the perfect trap set by Lucifer.

Raze was sure of one thing: his soulmate would never set him up, especially for the lord of Hell. But Lucifer was crafty all the same. When Raze first met Becca, he had wondered if she was the perfect lure—and she was. She really, really was.

Lucifer knew it, too, which was precisely why Raze scoffed and said, “I’m good. Thanks anyway.”

The devil shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Then, before Raze could demand Lucifer stop playing his games and admit he knew what happened to Becca—even though he was sure he already knew himself—Lucifer disappeared in a plume of black smoke, leaving a fresh wave of brimstone slapping Raze in the face.

Raze threw back his head, letting loose a bellow of rage that had car alarms in the distance blaring, before he spiraled up into the air, hoping that he hadn’t just made himself a bigger cautionary tale than Micah ever was.

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